


Ennui

by La_Mort



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 11:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11736339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/La_Mort/pseuds/La_Mort
Summary: Who wants to live forever?Originally inspired by a writing challenge on one of the old A Sailor Moon Romance discussion boards back in 2003:“Today (4th August) is National Champagne Day. Write a fic which starts with the main character giving a champagne toast.”





	Ennui

   “Happy Birthday to me,” the woman said softly, the slightest hint of irony detectable amongst her silken tones.

   She lifted the glass to her lips, taking a moment to observe the way the fading light made the crystal sparkle with a thousand hues of gold as she drained it of the last dregs of champagne; expensive champagne, she might hasten to add with the same touch of irony, as only the best would do for the Queen of Crystal Tokyo. Hundreds of tiny bubbles irritated the inner walls of her mouth and fizzled like liquid electricity on her taste buds, but she hardly seemed to notice.

   Over the years, there had been many nights like this, where she had sat before her window, alone, the ivory voile billowing in the light breeze, an empty glass or two nestled in between the menagerie of trinkets that graced her dressing table. The fact that it was her birthday made little difference to her routine.

   With a sweep of her delicately manicured hand she cleared a space on the crowded table, a sigh of annoyance escaping her lips as a tiny silver music box fell to the floor, a few tinny notes escaping in the silent room before the mechanism wound itself down. She made no move to pick it up, she would do so in the morning, if she remembered, for tonight she was exhausted, too tired, even, to bend down and pick up the fallen ornament.

   She cast her eyes across the contents of the table as she set the glass down in the space formerly occupied by the unfortunate music box. Most of them had been gifts from family or friends, or from the multitude of well-wishers that crowded in front of the palace gates every day in the hope that they may catch a glimpse of their Queen or her Senshi. In the early years of her reign, she had been more than happy to oblige them, but now she found their pandering tiresome, and was unmoved by their blind adoration; yet the flow of onlookers never diminished, and the gifts kept coming, so much so, that even the vast Crystal Palace was having difficulty accommodating them all.

   The fact that it was her birthday did little to help matters, and upon arriving for breakfast that morning she had found the main ballroom almost filled to the brim with presents, cards and the customary flowers, so many that before the morning was through, every orifice of the castle was perfumed with the scent of orchid, jasmine, and of course, roses. By the time afternoon rolled around, she was feeling decidedly sick, and could not enter a single room without noticing a vase of the offending blooms sitting contentedly on a side table for all to see, polluting her nostrils with their saccharine stink. She made a note of having them removed once the day was over, yet before she could retire to her room, where the air at least remained unscented, she was hailed by a gaggle of Senshi. Her planned escape would have to wait; it was time to open the presents.

   “Five hundred and seventy five!” Minako had exclaimed with a low whistle, “and there’s more in the hallway!”

   The Queen had returned her friend’s impressed smile, and had made a show of unwrapping the gaudy bundles piled at her feet, cooing with over-enthusiastic delight at the contents before adding it to the growing pile of gold, silver and the favoured crystal by her side, but after an hour even the Senshi became bored with the proceedings, and had made their excuses, inventing non-existent duties that required their presence elsewhere.

   She was glad of the diversion, and had left the ballroom soon after, taking the back staircase to her room, lest someone else cornered her for some menial task or other. Even now, some of the gifts remained unopened. Her stomach churned uncomfortably at the thought of the enormous pile still awaiting her, and she doubted she could face the arduous task of sifting through the mountain of brightly wrapped parcels again. Perhaps she would give them away, Chibi-Usa may have some use for them, exactly what, she neither knew nor cared. As long as they were out of her sight, it didn’t matter what she did with them.

   And then there had been Mamo-chan’s gift, presented to her as always at the banquet held in her honour that evening in front of her family and friends and the numerous dignitaries it was protocol to invite. It had been a necklace this time, a chain of tiny diamonds laced with the finest silver, and as he had strung the cold stones around her neck she had stretched a smile across her face to the tumulus applause of her guests as they raised their glasses in a toast, the perfect picture of contentment. A tiny sigh escaped her lips, although in the crowded room it went unnoticed; if there was one thing she didn’t need, it was more jewellery, yet she kept quiet.

   She imagined her husband rushing halfway round the world to bring her diamonds she did not need and expensive souvenirs she did not want, and felt sick to the stomach at the thought that he had paid so much for something she had no use for, yet what did it matter? He was not the King of Crystal Tokyo for nothing, and his personal bank balance alone was akin to that of a small country.

   The faint sound of shifting crockery drifted up several flights of stairs and across numerous passageways to her bedchamber; the party was over, which meant she had little time before someone came to check on the well-being of their fair sovereign.

 _If only they would leave me alone!_ she found herself thinking irritably, although there was still some small part of her that appreciated their concern.

   She felt guilty, sometimes, her friends only wanted the best for her, they only wanted to make her happy, and yet here she was sulking ungratefully in her room. They meant well, she knew that, but they didn’t seem to know when to stop, they didn’t seem to understand that she needed time to herself, she didn’t need them to wet-nurse her every five minutes. But she never told them that, of course, she didn’t want to hurt their feelings…

 _You know it’s more than that…_ a small voice at the back of her head chastised her, and she knew, as always, that it was right.

   The voice sounded a lot like Luna, and she knew that was no coincidence, for she remembered the small, black feline telling her many, many times that it was unbecoming of a Queen to lose her temper, and Usagi had followed her advice to the letter. After all, Luna knew what she was talking about, she had counselled the former Queen Serenity, and who knew how many monarchs before that, so the least she could do was listen to what she had to say.

   Yet that still did not stop her from excusing herself from the celebrations earlier than was customary, feigning a headache and retiring to her room on the predictable yet sensible advice of the ever-practical Ami. She had told only half a lie, alcohol and the over-perfumed air had made her nauseous, and once the toasts had been said and the dancing was well underway she had been desperate for an opportunity to leave. Still, when no-one was looking she had snuck away the last bottle of champagne, hiding it amongst the numerous folds of the dress someone had designed especially for the occasion. No sense in it going to waste, after all.

   She picked up the now empty bottle, twisting it this way and that, examining the label in the failing light; it was a 2000, the exact same year she had ascended the throne. She allowed herself a wry smile, the Senshi always did like their little joke now and again, but this was one that had long passed its sell-by-date.

   Her annual birthday celebrations brought with them two certainties; firstly, that God-awful silver that Mamo-chan insisted on bringing out every year, and secondly, the thirty or so bottles of 2000 champagne that could be found dotted around their room, nestled as always in their buckets of ice. And of course, there were Mamo-chan’s speeches, as carefully prepared and cliché as they had been in his Tuxedo Kamen days, each word filled with reverence and love for the woman sitting at his side, as gooey-eyed and attentive as she would have been had she not already heard the same words repeated a thousand times over.

   She often wished they would deviate from the standard formula, but after two millennia they had tried and tested every idea under the sun, some with more success than others, and as the years wore on it became progressively harder to think up something new and inventive, and so eventually they had settled for the routine they thought worked best. Still, she had feigned interest in every one of their schemes, no matter how unoriginal, had reacted with the same over-dramatised glee at the sight of the main ballroom draped in ribbons of gold and silver, the ceiling hung with brightly coloured baubles and banners, and the walls alight with hundreds of candles, as if she had not seen it a thousand times before.

   But she was growing tired of pretending, and was not sure how many more false smiles she could wear before the façade finally slipped, and she was exposed for the fraudster she really was, the weary, old Queen who was sick of feigning interest in a life that should have ended centuries ago. Still, she had managed to keep it up for two millennia, so what was to say she couldn’t keep it up for two more?

 _Surely not?_ she thought, surprised to see that her hands were shaking, _surely it won’t come to that?_

   But the ginzuishou had kept her alive this long, and her subjects showed no sign of tiring of her; if anything, they grew more fond of her with each passing day. For now, it seemed, she was here to stay, and short of destroying the ginzuishou there was nothing she could do about it, and that, naturally, was out of the question. But oh, how she had been tempted, how she longed to take the tiny, perfectly-formed crystal from the chapel in which it was kept and crush it beneath her heel.

   But what would become of her empire then? What would become of the city that thrived on the technology made possible by harnessing the crystal’s energy, the people who drew their very lifeblood from the power of the ginzuishou? Crystal Tokyo could not survive without it, and just as she needed the ginzuishou to support her people, it needed a human host through which to channel its energies, and she was the only one suited to such a task. There was no-one else.

   But that was not strictly true, there was another, someone else who was bound to the ginzuishou almost as strongly as the Queen herself; Chibi-Usa. Yet Chibi-Usa was chibi no more, and the affectionate nickname bestowed upon her as a way of distinguishing her from her mother was no longer appropriate. Both Luna and Artemis, not to mention the Senshi, had been grooming her for her royal role since she was young enough to understand who and what she was, so that she was more than prepared to assume the throne at any time. All it would take was one word from the current sovereign…

 _No!_ Usagi thought firmly, _I cannot let Chibi-Usa…I will not!_

   If she were to abdicate, she could not live in the knowledge of the innumerable sacrifices Chibi-Usa would have to make in her place, and the burden of responsibility her daughter would have to shoulder alone, and knew she could not bring such suffering, such loneliness, on her only child. But if she was unwilling to let Chibi-Usa inherit the throne, then she had no choice but carry on.

   Now, at long last, she understood the weight of immortality, the pain of waiting for an end that would never come, the agony of watching the world change around her, while she remained static, constant, unchanging. Forever young. But outward appearances could be deceiving, and although she did not look a day over twenty-two, inside she felt every bit as old as her two thousand years. She did not discuss it with the others, of course, for it would not do for them to know the extent of their Queen’s troubles. Besides, the Senshi had other duties that kept the busy enough, without her adding to their worries.

   There were no more battles, of course; after all, she had created utopia, and the minor disagreements that flared up now and again were nothing the regular militia couldn’t handle. The Nemesis invasion had been and gone with very few casualties, thanks to Chibi-Usa and the girl that had once been Tsukino Usagi. Sometimes, the Queen had to remind herself that she was that self-same same girl, rotting her brains on manga and video games whilst her teachers despaired over her falling grades, that she was the same odango-haired teenager who had shirked household chores, irritated her younger brother and fought for love and justice in her spare time. She still used the name occasionally, but only with her closest family and friends; to the rest of the world, she was Neo-Queen Serenity, and Tsukino Usagi had died long ago.

   With the world at peace for almost a thousand years, her presence in parliament was not required as frequently as it had been in the past, and with the vast majority of state business now conducted by the Senshi or her representatives, she found herself faced with almost unlimited leisure time. Her younger self would have literally foamed at the mouth at what she would have regarded as the ultimate luxury, but after a millennia of sitting pretty it had lost all its former appeal.

   There was nothing left to do; over the years she had read every single book published by mankind, even those technical manuals and scientific journals that previously she would not have touched with a bargepole, and had tried her hand at every hobby in existence, although each one was cast aside without fail when the challenge became too difficult, or more often than not, when she became bored.

   But there was only so long she could occupy her mind with trivial things before she grew restless, and yearned for more productive ways to pass the time. She often begged the Senshi for a more active role in the day-to-day running of the country, although her pleas usually fell on deaf ears. But why shouldn’t she get involved? It was her kingdom after all, although recently she was beginning to wonder just how true that was.

   “Don’t be silly, Serenity!” Ami said dismissively, with the air of someone who had more important things to do. And since when had she called her ‘Serenity’? “We can handle it. Really,” she added, when Usagi had tried to protest.

   She decided to leave it at that, but it didn’t stop her from envying the Senshi and their diplomatic duties, zooming off round the world at the drop of a hat, whilst she was resigned to attending charity balls and high-society dos like an over-paraded celebrity. She felt unused, nothing more than a pretty face and a kind smile, the government’s way of reassuring the common people that as long as she was in charge, everything was right with the world, for she was Neo-Queen Serenity, and hadn’t she defeated Chaos single-handedly? Hadn’t she thwarted the Nemesis invasion in the nick of time? Hadn’t she brought the world the peace it always wanted?

   She should have felt honoured to adopt such a role, after all, there were very few people who could generate rapturous applause with a single wave of their hand, or cajole a crowd into silence with a few well-chosen words. Yet in reality she felt claustrophobic, trapped by the holier-than-thou status she had acquired, and because of what? A gift she had inherited by pure chance, and a link her genealogy had forged with a kingdom that had been extinct for thousands of years.

   She deserved the peoples’ adoration no more than the next person, surely there were others who were smarter and more intelligent than her, those who had done more for mankind than show up at just the right moment with a few pretty words and a nice costume? Yet they had chosen her as their Queen, they had chosen clumsy, less-than-perfect Tsukino Usagi to be their flawless, china doll, and after two thousand years of careful thought she was still no closer to understanding their decision.

   But if there was one person who would always see her for who and what she was, it was Mamo-chan. Whilst everyone else flapped and fussed over her, and pretended to pander to her every need, he remained constant, as solid and steadfast as always, and no matter what the occasion, he never failed to rise splendidly to the challenge; the perfect suitor for the perfect Queen.

   He approached every situation with almost unnatural calm, sailing through as if it required no effort at all. Conversation spun from his lips as though he had prepared days in advance, a witty joke or an unusual fact on hand for any occasion. He was neither overpowering nor out of his depth, and seemed to be fluent in the traditions of every culture, no matter how obscure.

   She should have been as impressed as everyone else, but she wasn’t. She found it irritating, infuriating almost, that he was always as cool and collected as the ruler of the most powerful nation on Earth should be, perhaps because inwardly he was everything she was expected to be on the outside. It frightened her, although she never voiced her fears, even to him, it frightened her, the way he never seemed to make a mistake, the way he never seemed to stumble or falter, almost as if he was a robot, as if he wasn’t human…

   “Don’t you ever get sick of this?” she had snapped at him once, after yet another evening of socialising with the usual crowd, another evening of exchanging meaningless banter and anecdotes they had heard a thousand times before, “don’t you ever get tired of being perfect all the time? Don’t you get sick of the way we’re expected to follow the same routine, day in, day out, as if we’re some kind of stupid machine?”

   She half expected him to shout back, to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she came to her senses, even though he had never lifted a finger to her before. She half wanted him to strike her, to slap her across the face or knock her to the floor, because that would be a different reaction at least, because it would be unpredictable. But instead he merely turned to face her, his eyes filled with an expression she did not recognise, and for the first time in two millennia, he looked truly old.

   “Yes, Usako,” he had said softly, “but isn’t that what it’s all about? Being what everyone else wants us to be?”

   She fell silent then, knowing he was right but hating it at the same time. Yet it was not he whom she was angry at, but herself, for had she not made the decision to carry on with her little charade, when she could have so easily passed the tab on to someone else? No, she was the one to blame, and it was she, and she alone, who should suffer the consequences. Perhaps that was what fate was, blind acceptance of that which could not be changed, or the stubbornness to pretend otherwise.

   And so she would continue to go through the motions, day after day, month after month, year after year; sitting silently at her window and watching the world as it revolved around her, lending her youthful looks and winning smile to the masses, giving them their every need whilst ignoring her own. But then again, she had everything, what more could she possibly want?

 _What more, indeed?_ she thought, tilting her empty glass towards the moon in a silent toast, starlight sparkling against the delicate crystal.

_Happy Birthday, Neo-Queen Serenity._


End file.
